


The Complete Compliation

by Lemony_Snicket (CompleteIndie)



Series: The Alleviating Aftermath [5]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Alcohol, Birthday, Birthday Party, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, F/M, The Alleviating Aftermath AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-12 01:01:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompleteIndie/pseuds/Lemony_Snicket
Summary: Dear reader,There are many things in this world that are simply 'not'. Bubbles are not made of bricks. Lawyers are not honest. And fire is not safe.This story is not recommended, because it does not exist. In case I wasn't clear enough, The Complete Compilation does not exist, nor does it contain Christmas, birthdays, alcoholism, school, or guests.It does not exist.I'd advise reading the rest of the Alleviating Aftermath AU before reading this, because reading this is impossible. This does not exist, and for good reason. This would be the fifth entry in a truly wretched series, and I assume not a single person would read such a miserable tale.With all due respect,Someone That Is Not Lemony Snicket





	1. The Fun Festivities

_Twas the night before Christmas,_

_and all through the house,_

_not a creature was stirring,_

_not even a mouse._

That was a complete lie. In almost every sense of the word.

It was the week before Christmas, being December 18th, which still left a lot of days before Christmas. The Baudelaires and Quagmires did not live in a house, but rather a secret library. Everyone was stirring except for little Sunny. There was, however, no mouse. So that was twenty five percent, which is regrettably higher than my grade in physical education back at Prufrock Preparatory School.

Two souls were still in bed, one was one their way to the kitchen, and two were busy making breakfast.

Quigley stepped inside the dining room to see Isadora lining up some plates. Quigley's eyes went wide at the food.

“Hey…” he said half dazed. _That smells good…_ he thought, eyes resting on each plate with bacon and eggs.

“Me and Klaus couldn't sleep, so we decided to surprise you all. Can you get Violet and Duncan for us?” Isadora said, before swatting her older brother's hand away. “No food until everyone is here.”

Quigley frowned, before racing up to get his siblings. Isadora could hear a cry of outrage from either Duncan or Quigley — they sounded similar from this distance — followed by a slammed door.

Quigley came in, a bright red hue to his face.

“They most certainly are awake.” He said calmly, and Isadora couldn't tell if she wanted to know why.

As Klaus brought in the remainder of the food and woke up Sunny, the six children gathered around the table, eating breakfast. There was an odd silence between Duncan, Quigley, and Violet, but Isadora left it as a silence.

Finally, the light turned to a brighter mood.

“It's almost Christmas, guys. Our first Christmas together.” Duncan said.

The Baudelaires looked at Isadora with a small look of… guilt? Sadness? Some emotion not often associated with Christmas.

“Actually… this is our first Christmas, period.” Violet finally said, much to the triplet's surprise.

 “You're kidding.” Isadora said, faking shock — it wasn't hard to fake, however.

“Our parents never celebrated it.” Klaus said, a small tinge of annoyance to his tone.

“Trust us, you're going to love it.” Quigley said, looking at their faces.

However, after the meal, the three Quagmires rendezvoused, a word here meaning 'went into the kitchen just the three of them to discuss this recent revelation’.

“So. How can we make the best Christmas ever?” Duncan asked.

“You know, if this isn't the best Christmas they've ever had, I think we should stop celebrating too.” Quigley said, smirking. Only to be hit upside the head by Isadora.

“Really, Quigley? Be serious. We need to make this special.”

“Presents might be difficult. We have no money.” Duncan pointed out. It was true. Despite the immense wealth in form of the Quagmire Sapphires, it was impossible for them to access it. The only reason the children were getting by was Dewey had given the children, and was still giving, the children money each month for groceries. Even that was faltering however, as Dewey and Kit were having issues raising their daughter Beatrice since the fire of Hotel Denouement.

“We'll figure something out.” Isadora said. “We always do.”

* * *

Meanwhile, the Baudelaire children were holding their own conversation.

“So… should we get them presents? We still have a bit from Dewey…” Klaus said. While the Baudelaire children never celebrated Christmas, they most certainly understood how the whole event worked.

“Yeah. Odds are, the triplets are talking about making Christmas all fancy for us.” Violet said.

“If only we could use the fortune.” Klaus lamented, bringing up the fortune for the first time since Lemony had offered to take it out. But due to his life on the run, he couldn't.

There was an irony. The Baudelaire Fortune was to make the children's lives better, which a fortune of thirty two million dollars likely would. However, it caused all this misfortune for them and they couldn't even use it.

“We have to make our first Christmas together good. For their sake.” Klaus said.

“We'll figure something out.” Violet replied. “We always do.”

* * *

And so, the next three days was hectic. The triplets worked like dogs finding odd jobs to do, simply so they could give the Baudelaires something special. The Baudelaires worked equally as hard, if not harder in Sunny's case.

It was a stressful three days, but by the end of all the shovelled driveways, single day events and whatnot, the six children could get the Quagmire's gifts. On a fourth day, the last day apart, the three Quagmires said they wanted to go visit their parents’ graves alone — which they ultimately did, resulting in an unusually silent Quigley, an unusually comforting Duncan, and an unusually hysterical Isadora, all three sobbing softly to themselves on the ride back home, the presents for the Baudelaire three nearly forgotten.

And so they did. Somehow, or maybe because of, the children managed to time their jobs just right so that no one but their siblings knew. Duncan was already gone — buying presents for Isadora, he said, which wasn't a complete lie, he thought. As he left, Violet left as well.

As Isadora left, to go get fresh air, Klaus decided to visit the public library for new books. Both were lying, but somehow no one saw through the lies. Maybe they didn't think to look deeply into it.

Whatever the reason, it worked. Surprisingly well.

The last two days were spent indoors together. Christmas movies, game nights, anything and everything to come their way. The Baudelaires, not used to Christmas traditions, simply followed those of the Quagmires, albeit with some changes to account to the people present or some new ideas from the Baudelaires. Only one tradition from the Quagmires was skipped, how each year, they would open up a present from the tree, the rest lying in suspense. The rest were followed through.

Finally, Christmas morning came. Isadora and Quigley both woke up, and Isadora woke up Klaus, Quigley waking up Duncan and Violet, him coming out his hands in front of his eyes, murmuring something about children being in the house.

They all gathered around the little tree that had been given to them by Dewey — a private locker he had kept for seasonal stuff in the Hotel Denouement, saying they could use it too.

“Not like the Hotel needs it.” Dewey said, a tone of comedy and sadness in his voice.

So they sat there, about to open presents, when the two sets of friends noticed something.

“You got us presents?” Duncan asked the Baudelaires.

“Of course we did. That's what friends are for.” Violet said, blushing a little.

They all hugged in a cheerful moment, before opening their gifts. Each child had received only one or two gifts, but that was all they needed.

Violet had received a complete toolkit with just about everything she could ever need. Klaus got a Sunny got a book too, one titled _The Incomplete History of Recipes_ (by some odd coincidence, that and _The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations_ were completely different, no similarity in content, shape, author, or design other than title.)

Meanwhile, Isadora got a calligraphy pen set for writing poems or whatever else she wanted to write, Quigley got a guide to making maps  as well supplies to do it, and Duncan a typewriter for his own, which had only been affordable because Violet bought it off of someone who was claiming they were desperate to get rid of it — Not that anyone in the room knew this, but in fact one of my typewriters, which was trying to be gotten rid of as evidence.

It wasn't the biggest Christmas ever, and in fact, because Violet would get the Baudelaire fortune in less than two years and the Quagmire in less than three, would stay their smallest, it was still memorable.

The six sat around, played, talked, cried — Isadora and Violet even managed to find eggnog, both with and without alcohol, which the children decided to have — Sunny wasn’t allowed anywhere near the alcoholic, however.

After everything was said and done, Sunny's wonderful cooking ending the night with dessert, the couple's went to their rooms. The couples each did their own things together, enjoying the night.

In the end, it was the best Christmas they could have hoped for.

It was a night to be remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (So, because Quigley never got enough character development, he’s my blank slate... so may as well put a personality I know how to write there. Quigley will still Quigley, memories and the but of personality we have, but I’m using myself or reference a little.)


	2. The Benevolent Birthday

Birthdays are a very odd thing to celebrate. A birthday is merely a celebration as to how you are one year older, which for some reason is considered a good thing despite how the average person lives to the age of seventy-eight or so. Of course, it also means you managed to go three hundred and sixty five days — three hundred sixty six days if it happens to be a leap year — without dying in any way, shape, or form, so there is that.

Well, today was January 3rd, and it was the day before the birthday of Isadora, Duncan, and Quigley Quagmire.

In the time between the fire that destroyed their home and this birthday, they had less than amazing experiences.

Isadora, Duncan, and Quigley had all insisted that they didn’t want or need presents or cake or anything special. Just a card, a good wish.

Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire were not content with that, even though the Quagmires only informed them of their birthday today.

They had figured out everything. Sunny would make a special dessert for them — although trying to work with how one of their favorite shared flavors was mint would be hard — and Violet and Klaus had to decorate and prepare.

They needed to do it without any of the triplets knowing though, which was the hard part.

Violet, Klaus and Sunny had been talking the night before, when they come up with the plan.

* * *

 

It was late in the morning, at around half past nine. Isadora, Duncan, and Quigley had all woken up rather late, as they were in no hurry to rush things.

They woke up, and found the Baudelaires already awake — the Quagmires didn't suspect it was because Violet, Klaus and Sunny were preparing a party for the triplets.

The six had breakfast, omelets — much to the triplet's surprise and joy, being one of their favorite choices for breakfast — and talked and laughed, a bit more jolly and festive.

Violet gave Duncan a birthday card, Klaus gave Isadora a card and a kiss on the cheeks, and Sunny gave Quigley a card as well.

The Quagmires were content. After the fire, they thought they'd never spend their birthday together again. The fact they could was enough present for them, which all the more proves that the best people have the worse luck.

I was close friends with someone, named Sally. She lived a good childhood until her parents perished in a horrible plane crash. She was adopted by a somewhat harsh and mean uncle, but she used her college money to try and save his life from sickness. Upon failing, she had no family, money, shelter, or allies. She was also very well-read, noble, honest, comforting, and has managed to make many people happy. And as long as Sally was surrounded with happy, she was happy.

The Quagmires were similar at this time. They didn't want much, just each other, and they didn't feel cheated out of a birthday. Times were tough, they were getting by. Soon, they'd be at Prufrock Prep again with no worries about food or shelter.

They were content.

But Violet, Klaus, and Sunny wanted more, not for themselves, but for the Quagmires.

So, much to the triplet's agreement, they sat, watched movies. An unspoken rule of sorts rang throughout the home, 'Isadora, Duncan, and Quigley are boss. Do what they want’. The Baudelaires were more than happy to do what they wanted. Movies, story telling — hell, Violet and Isadora both even broke out a small bottle of Merlot, toasting to the birthday.

But it seemed like the day would end on a normal note. A bit more exciting than usual, but not much was too much more special. Nothing they hadn't done before.

So, when the Quagmires went to their rooms to grab stuff for the final movie, the Baudelaires worked quickly.

Decorations that had been finished before, cake that had been baked over the day. All ready at last.

The three Quagmires had different reactions.

Isadora cried. Happy tears, but she cried. She jumped into Klaus’ arms, murmuring words along the lines of “you didn't have to” and “you're too sweet”.

Duncan was just awe-struck. He looked at Violet, who featured to the room. “T-thanks, guys… I… it means a lot…” Duncan said, voice choking. He never cried, but he almost did.

Quigley tried to act all tough, trying to make it clear to the Baudelaires they shouldn't have done all that. He would never admit it outloud, but this was one of the best surprises he had ever gotten for his birthday.

The three birthday children celebrated with cake — the Baudelaires were offered some, but refused, the two reasons just making the Quagmires cry a little more and hug.

The first reason, they said, was “it's your birthday, not ours. You eat your cake.” Isadora was having absolutely none of it, and took a piece of her slice and poked it into Klaus’ mouth, in a somewhat childish manner, a phrase here meaning 'giggling like the common two-year old’.

Violet than informed the second reason. The cake was made with peppermint, which here meant Klaus Baudelaire, alongside his sister's, were allergic to the cake. When Isadora realized her mistake, she tried to abstain from eating any more cake out of guilt.

“Mope.” Klaus said, his tongue getting in the way of what was likely 'nope'. “Your came, not mime.” He said, likely meaning 'your cake, not mine’, doing the same thing as Isadora and childishly poking some to her. The two just blushed and sat there, staring for a second. Duncan, Quigley, Violet and Sunny all smirked. Those two were cute together.

_ Maybe someday that could be me and Violet _ … Duncan couldn't help but think.

The six all had a cheerful relaxing movie marathon — Klaus hadn't bothered to do anything about his tongue, no damage was done — Isadora curled up in her boyfriend's arms, Sunny falling asleep on Violet's lap, and Duncan and Quigley both laying on the couch together, holding a whispered discussion about the film.

It was only after the movie did Duncan finally ask Violet a question.

“So, Violet…?” Duncan asked, falling in step with a still wide awake Violet.

“I was wondering… maybe… do you wanna go out on a date?” Duncan asked shyly. Violet smiled.

She just leaned down a notch, grabbed Duncan's chin, and lifted it.

“Here's my answer.” She said, before kissing Duncan on the lips. Duncan leaned into the kiss, happy.

_ Yep. Best birthday ever. _

* * *

Klaus and Isadora were finally alone. Their siblings had been overprotective of them until now, but they were allowed in the same room without glares.

“So… Klaus?” asked Isadora, shyly.

“Yes, Izzy?” Klaus said. He had taken to the nickname upon discovering it, and used it as a pet name, a phrase here meaning 'a small sign of their relationship’.

“I was wondering if you've written anything recently…” Isadora said. She had changed what she was going to say, and felt bad.  _ He's gonna say no if I ask  _ that _ , I know it .. _

“Yeah, actually.” Klaus said, pulling out his commonplace book.

The two shared poems and stories and mixes of both and things that were neither for a while, one such 'neither’ being Isadora's original question, and while I desire to give the middle Baudelaire and his lover privacy, I can state that their siblings were lucky for soundproof walls, and that they went to sleep in each other's arms.

And, for everyone in the underwater house, things seemed quiet. At least for now.


	3. The Abysmal Addiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: The author insists that readers really do be cautious with this chapter, as it contains a heavy theme of alcohol and alcohol addiction. Mr. Snicket insists that you really should read something else if this will unsettle you.**
> 
>  
> 
> **All due respect.**

Responsibility can be a crushing feeling. Sometimes, you have mild responsibilities, such as taking the garbage out in the morning. Other times, it can be slightly greater, like jumping onto a moving train to save someone.

Many people cope with this mountain of work in different ways. Some purchase stress balls, which are foam orbs that you attempt to squish but never can, some people draw or write.

And sadly, some people drink away their sorrows.

It was one dark evening, which is an normal occasion — most evenings are dark, unless it happens to be summer.

Violet and Isadora were chatting, their brothers off in the library itself trying to map it out completely. Sunny was fast asleep.

The two of them were talking about life, the universe, everything and anything that came to mind.

Of course, as all unfortunate things do, the conversation fell down a rabbit hole, a expression which here means ‘went from businesses to restaurants to food to peppermints to allergies to unpleasantness to fears and phobias’.

“Claustrophobia…” Isadora slowly said. She felt guilty about admitting it, but she trusted Violet.

“The herring?” Violet guessed, and the subtle way Isadora flinched answered her question. Violet leaned in, hugging her adopted sister.

“So much…” Isadora said slowly. “Fears of everything… fire, small spaces, heights, darkness…” she said slowly, each word bringing back painful memories. The fire, she had lost her parents; the red herring, the cage, the fountain; the hot-air mobile home and how she fell and fell and fell and screamed Violet and Klaus and Sunny's names, but was pulled under the water; the dark night she had ran laps for Olaf, hiding in the library where she and Duncan were found, the dark elevator shaft…

All of these fears were rational, of course. Fire is certainly terrifying, small spaces can be dangerous, heights can be dangerous, and darkness, while not dangerous in and of itself, can hide dangers. But it served as no remedy to Isadora’s blight.

Violet rubbed her back soothingly. “I know.” She said slowly. “Things were so carefree and now, the whole world seems like is out to hurt you, right?” Isadora nodded slowly.

“I know what it’s like to be scared. But Isadora?” She said, and the poet looked at the inventor. “I won’t let you get hurt. Duncan and Quigley won’t let you get hurt. Sunny won’t let you get hurt. Klaus won’t let you get hurt. You’re safe, okay?”

Isadora nodded, before looking at Violet. “W-what are you scared of?” She asked shyly. She didn’t want to hurt Violet’s feelings by invading her space, but she wanted to know.

“Almost everything.” Violet said, a sad smile on her face. “Normal fears, like fire, lions, heights, water… And then ones that I shouldn’t be scared of still, but I can’t help it. Elevators, crows, hospitals, snow…” She said, still giving a sad smile.

“He messed up both our lives, but he’s gone now, Violet…” Isadora said, not sure who she was comforting.

“H-Hey, Isadora?” Violet asked.  _ No, I shouldn’t… but it’s her choice…  _ “Can I show you something?”

Isadora nodded, following Violet to the kitchen. Violet reached under the table. Hidden underneath, where small little compartments. Violet had found them only a couple of weeks after moving in, and it had already been filled. She opened one compartment, and took out a dark purple bottle labeled Merlot. Violet grabbed herself and Isadora a small cup — just a mug from the cupboard, it didn’t need to be fancy — and poured them both a cup.

“You don’t have to.” Violet said, as she poured. “But… it helps sometimes. I don’t let it interfere. But sometimes…” Violet was thinking about her words. “It can take your mind off of troubles.”

Isadora nodded. She grabbed her cup and took a hesitant sip, the fruity flavour surprising her. She expected it to be a burning taste, but… it was rather nice, actually. She took another, less hesitant sip.

The two continued their discussion throughout the night, and well into the morning, after even their brothers went to sleep. They agreed their brothers’ could never know. Not this. Not yet.

So it fell into routine, a saying which does not mean they tripped and stumbled into a deep hole that tourists nicknamed Routine, but rather it became a habit. Every week, often more than that, Violet and Isadora would chat over a few drinks — that’s what they told themselves, when in actually it was more than a few, but they would often go through a bottle, sometimes even two in a single night — and drink away their sorrows and worries.

They both knew what they were doing was wrong, taboo. They were still just children. But they didn’t feel like it. Both the eldest sister in their family, both the one who has to keep their siblings safe from the world. They had endured hardships both alone and together than would make grown men weep, and even ones that make grown men just writing about it weep. They deserved it.

* * *

 

This went on for sometime, even over Christmas holidays — no one found it off when Violet and Isadora pulled out the eggnog, and while Klaus, Duncan, Quigley, and Sunny had the non-alcoholic, Violet and Isadora managed to go through the whole carton. Or the time they broke out a smaller, half full bottle of Merlot on the triplet’s birthday. They both knew that they suffered from the alcohol, an addiction if they ever heard one.

But it didn’t feel like suffering.

Time and time again, the two would drown themselves in fruity beverages and lament on the hand they had been dealt, a phrase meaning ‘the way their life had gone’.

It was the night before the Baudelaires and Quagmires were going to go live at Prufrock Prep, and there was no way in hell the two sisters were going o be able to hide Merlot, or any other alcohol, at Prufrock.

So, they drank what they had left.

Two and a half bottles of Merlot, over grand stories and memories. The two drank away their sorrows, and were too busy talking to notice thecreaking outside the kitchen, from the living room. Or the steps coming into the kitchen.

“Izzy? Violet?” Said a voice.

The two girls turned, startled, and Isadora even dropped her cup, the dark grey mug shattering against the linoleum floor.

In the door frame stood Quigley Quagmire, still dressed in dark purple pyjamas, hair a mess, and an upset look on his face.

“Q-Quigley!” Isadora said, blushing. “What are you doing up?”

Quigley rolled his eyes. “I was gonna get a drink.” He said, before adding, almost as an afterthought, “But you seems you’ve got that covered.”

Isadora and Violet both went red from embarrassment.

“So. How long has this been going on?” Quigley inquired.

“What do you mean?” Violet asked innocently.

“The drinking. When did you start.” Quigley said, already suspecting the answer.

“We decided to celebrate today with somet-“ Isadora started.

“Isadora Mallahan Quagmire, don’t lie to me.” Quigley interrupted. “At least since Christmas. The eggnog. You two both went through a carton of eggnog, and you seemed fine.” He had his suspicions back then, but he figured he as wrong. Never in a million years did he expect… this.

“Since Ellington.” Violet said slowly. Even now, months later and two bottles of Merlot between her and Isadora, she couldn’t bring herself to say exactly what had happened with Ellington Feint. Any aspect of it, the fire, the hypnotism, the kidnapping, the gun.

Quigley shook his head. “You can’t keep doing this.” He said, finally.

“Why not?” Isadora asked. “It took you two months to notice, and it was because you walked in.” She said, although she knew the answer fully well.

“Because you’re both still children. What if I was drinking?” Quigley said. “You’d tell me to stop, even if you were drinking too.” He pointed out.

There was silence.

“Look, you can’t bring that to Prufrock. I don’t know how much you guys have left, but finish it off I guess. But I’m waking you both up early. And no more drinking after tonight.” Quigley said sternly. Both girls nodded, murmuring apologies.

“You won’t tell Klaus or Sunny, right?” Violet asked.

“Or Duncan?”

Quigley gave a soft chuckle.

“Promise, sis. Promise, Vi.” He said, before walking to the cupboard, pulling out a cup, and sitting beside his sister. Both girls looked at him in shock.

“Q-Quigley?”

Quigley gave them both a sad smile. “We’re one big happy dysfunctional family aren’t we? Who do you think put the drinks under the table?” He said, before pouring himself a cup.

And so the three all chatted, a small burden slightly removed.

The addiction never stopped. Years later, the three of them went into rehab, and all their siblings were furious.

But everyone has their secrets, and they shared and talked and laughed, they felt a slightly closer bond, if only for a night.

The world wasn't quiet. But the fire in their life seemed smothered in peace, so it was good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Quigley’s a hypocrite, yeah. And before anyone asks, no, even though I’m using myself as a bit of basis for Quigley, I don’t drink or have desires to.)
> 
> (Sorry if that was unsettling. It was slightly hinted at in Chapters 1 and 2, but not too much.)
> 
> (Have a good night.)
> 
> (Next chapter is them going to Prufrock, but then I’ll take requests.)


	4. The Pristine Principal

Unless you happen to have been kidnapped from a remarkably young age and trained into a secret organization with no definitive schooling system, in which case I pray you are on my side of the schism and apologize for being born at an awkward time in the V.F.D., you have likely had a first day of school.

If you have, you likely know how nerve wracking your first day of school is, nerve wrecking being a phrase which here means ‘frightening and awkward feeling’

You also likely know this feeling does not fade or lessen between years of school, at least for some. How the first day of kindergarten is just as, if not more, nerve wracking as your first day of second grade, or seventh grade, or tenth grade or college.

It can even be more nerve wracking, as you know you have a harder curriculum ahead of you and a bigger social life surrounding you, and how some people might not form a social life and instead wallow in sadness through their entire schooling life, mooning after a girl and learning how fast he can type with a typewriter when in complete solitude, barring perhaps a sibling.

Well, the Baudelaires and Quagmire children all felt that nerve wracking feeling, as they got into Dewey Denouement’s car, for the upcoming change of pace, change of pace being a phrase here meaning ‘move into Prufrock Preparatory School’.

It was at Kit Snicket and my insistence. The Baudelaires and Quagmires needed an education, and although the kids tried to argue with me and my sister, we assured them we’d handle things.

And so there they were, a car with two seats in the front, two in the middle, and three in the back, like some taxis, albeit rarer than normal taxis. Dewey was the driver, logically, a word here meaning ‘because it was his car and his gas and he was the only one at the location with a driver’s license, so of course Dewey wouldn’t let the children drive’. Klaus sat in the passenger’s seat, Quigley and Duncan sat in the middle row, and Sunny, Violet and Isadora sat in the back.

The drive was spent talking, sleeping, doing karaoke, and Dewey and Klaus telling jokes, and neither of them will have the pleasure of having their subpar jokes written down in this book.

“My wife still misses me,” Dewey said, smirking.

“But her aim is getting better?” Klaus asked, finishing the joke. The two of them got along too well, and seemed to be thinking on a similar wavelength, which is to say they had similar thoughts, not that they were telepathically delivering messages via light and radio waves through the air.

Dewey glared at the boy out of the corner of his eyes, keeping his eyes on the road and Klaus at the same time. “Come on, that’s four in a row!”

“And since we’re almost there,” Klaus pointed out, smirking, “I win.”

Dewey chuckled. “He says to the driver. But yeah, Violet, can you wake up Sunny? We’re almost at Prufrock.”

Indeed they were. The children — barring Quigley, who had never actually been to Prufrock before — couldn't help but notice the hundreds of vines that once ran along its walls were gone, and that the place just looked… nicer. Clean.

The children — once again, barring Quigley — started to hope things would be different this time around.

“Looks like you won’t be in the Orphan Shack this time.” Dewey commented.

“Orphan Shack?” Quigley asked curiously. Dewey sighed.

“You should’ve warned him.” The Denouement triplet pointed out.

“It would be nerve wracking. But yeah, the old vice principal, Nero, made orphans sleep in a shack, away from the dorms.” Duncan said.

Dewey laughed, a mirthless laugh. “By shack, he means a wooden box with fungus dripping from the ceiling. I would know, I lived in that thing both before and after it became the Orphan Shack.”

Quigley glared at Duncan. “Now you tell me.”

“It’s probably gone though. We have an… interesting choice for the new Vice Principal.” Dewey said, smirking. “You know them, actually.” I, of course, writing this after the fact, know the new Vice Principal’s name, but I, reader, will leave you in suspense solely out of hope the suspense will make you frustrated enough to close this page.

So they arrived. The children walked underneath a sign reading out ‘memento mori’, a phrase which you likely knows means ‘remember you will die’. They noticed the sign, despite the very morbid message, looked clean for once, and the letters weren’t being highlighted by the vines curling around them.

The six children and sub-librarian made their way to a familiar office, the former office of Vice Principal Nero. The office for the principal — Ishmael, the Baudelaires very well knew, not that he would be using his office often — was still run down, but it was one fault in an otherwise rather nice renovation.

At last, Isadora knocked on the door to the vice principal. The door opened.

“Ah. Hello children, hello Dewey.” I said, quietly mourning the loss of my comfort in this stiff uniform. “Nice to see you again.”

* * *

As I wished Dewey good luck with the child, I started to guide the Baudelaires and Quagmires to their new rooms.

“Pardon me if I don’t have time for long talks,” I started, ironically taking up more time. “But I must be quick with this, as I have matters to attend to with Mr. Poe. This was Kit’s idea, as I did always remember Prufrock fondly. It’s where I met… her.” I said. Violet looked at me almost wistfully. We both had good memories with the same person — Beatrice Baudelaire. “I became Vice Principal so I could watch over you and protect you from the horrors of the world. That, and it was about time someone replace that incompetent fool Nero — interestingly, he’s a Feint.” I added, as an afterthought.

“Regardless, due to an very in-depth analysis of the policies, that I rewrote, you will be the only six children is your section of the dormitories. I managed to get this approved citing various mental and physical reasons, as well as anxiety. Which, while I imagine is right, I technically lied since I don’t know for sure. I imagine you don’t mind.” I said, continuing. “So, here we are. If you ever need anything, ring. I will do everything in my power for you six. I must insist you take this advice though; In all trying times, leave V.F.D. matters to me. Remember, ring if you need me.”

“Goodbye, children. May we meet again soon.” I said, before briskly leaving the dorm area, briskly being a word here meaning ‘quickly’.

The Baudelaires stepped into their dorm, and couldn’t help but notice it was designed almost exactly like the secret library’s home, albeit smaller.

The Baudelaires and Quagmires smiled. Prufrock Prep wasn’t gonna be perfect.

But it would feel like home to them, and with that and the secret library, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally entitled THE TEDIOUS TRANSFER, but it wasn't all that tedious.
> 
> ALSO, we're on TVTropes, baby! [Here's the link!](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/FanFic/TheAlleviatingAftermath)


	5. The Alarming Arrival

Winter is a cold, terrible force.

In the winter, snow falls, and makes mobility difficult. It causes ice, which removes traction and can make you lose your keyring under a foot of frozen water. It has terrible wind, which blows and swirls and throws bitter snow into your face. It is the most often time to get hypothermia.

Winter is a vile season, and it is my proof that mercy does not exist.

Don't even get me started on the Mortmain Mountains in the winter.

Regardless, when the temperature dropped to forty degrees below zero, after a freak snow storm, school was cancelled for Prufrock Prep, as for the student’s safety. That, and I really didn't want to do anything in that weather, and being Vice Principal, I had that choice.

Regardless, for the second time, it meant the Baudelaires and Quagmires had the day to themselves.

Sunny was making everyone breakfast when they woke up. She had just finished, and laid out each and every plate for each resident.

Isadora glanced at the food. Even though Sunny liked cooking, this most certainly was a surprise, a word here meaning ‘she made far too much with far too much quality for this to simply be goodwill’. She often did this when she knew bad news.

Indeed, Isadora was right.

“So.” Violet said, and everyone stopped from eating to look at her.

“Le—Da—Mr. Snicket,” Violet stammered out, unsure what to call me. “He called me last night. He had important news.” Everyone looked at Violet.

As you very well may know, if you have unpleasant memories of a person, the last thing you want to hear over breakfast is their name. If that person backstabbed you, which has happened to me many times, both figuratively and literally, you will not be happy to know they are happy themselves and want to see you again.

“Fiona Widdershins is coming to Prufrock, and Mr. Snicket wants us to show her around.” Violet declared.

Duncan’s eyes went wide, just like the egg he just popped into his mouth had been before he ate it. Quigley choked on the piece of toast in his mouth. Isadora, who had been holding her fork, just dropped it. Klaus, who had been drinking, spit out his drink in shock. Sunny continued spreading butter on her toast.

Almost everyone had their own reasons for disliking Fiona, Violet included. She had been ill-tempered, invasive, and had completely crushed Klaus’ heart, a phrase here meaning ‘stole his first kiss, tried to separate him from the Quagmires, tried to cause a family schism between him and his sister, and left them to join Count Olaf and his troupe.’

“Mr—Lemony knows that we don’t get along with Fiona.” Klaus pointed out.

“She hurt Klaus…” Isadora muttered darkly, a phrase here meaning ‘under her breath, to herself, and quite mad with the youngest Widdershins child, possibly even moreso than Klaus himself’.

“Mr. Snicket says she changed. She’s different now.” Violet pointed out.

No one else was satisfied with that.

“She’ll be joining us tonight. Lemony said to treat her nicely.” Violet said. “Not fairly, he noted. But nicely.”

Silence rang out.

“I think we should give her a second shot.” Klaus said.

That sealed it, a phrase here meaning ‘considering how Klaus should have been the cruelest to her, and he wanted to give her a second shot, made the other children decide to give her one too’.

And so, the children decided to get ready. Fiona would be arriving at noon.

The children made sure the dorm was clean - it already was, but they decided to clean it away.

Klaus pulled Isadora aside shortly after lunch however. Violet, Duncan, Quigley, and Sunny went out to grab food for dinner, seeing as they run out. It left Klaus and Isadora alone for about an hour.

“Izzy, I need to talk to you about something.” He started. Isadora had been somewhat gloomy, for several reasons, ever since hearing of Fiona’s soon arrival.

“What is it, Klaus? She asked, trying to veil her mood, veil being a word here meaning ‘disguise’.

“I know you don’t like Fiona, but give her a shot, okay?” Klaus said.

Isadora sighed. She didn’t want to, she didn’t feel like she would change. One chance arose, she would backstab Klaus again, she knew it.

That, and, although she wouldn’t admit it, she didn’t want Fiona to steal Klaus from her.

Klaus could tell. He pulled Isadora close to her.

“She can’t replace you, you know that, right?” Klaus murmured.

Isadora nodded a little.  _ He’s just saying it… _

“Izzy.” Klaus said, before softly holding Isadora’s face in front of his. He looked deep into her eyes.

“I love you, Isadora Quagmire. Nothing can ever change that.” Klaus said, before adding, “I’d be willing to endure everything since the fire again if I needed to prove it.”

Isadora gave a small, choked sob —  _ Not gonna cry, not gonna cry, not gonna cry  _ — as Klaus held her tightly again.

Klaus couldn’t help but frown. He had overheard what had happened the night before they came to Prufrock, and he knew Isadora had self-esteem issues and various other things.

But he had meant it. He was willing to endure everything Count Olaf threw at him again and again and again if need be — as long as Isadora was safe and happy.

The two had time together before their siblings returned, and just in time.

Fiona was expected to be here soon.

* * *

 

Violet tensed as she heard three, short, quick knocks.

_ Knock! Knock! Knock! _

She inwardly sighed. Best case scenario, old bridges were burned and everyone was happy again.

Worst case scenario, likely a fight. She didn’t like how nervous Isadora seemed…

Violet walked to the door, opening it wide.

There stood Fiona Widdershins, her brother Fernald almost as a bodyguard, flanking her left side.

Fernald grinned sheepishly, while Fiona kind of just shyly smiled.

“Hello, Violet.” Fiona said.

“Hello, Fiona, Fernald.” Violet replied. “Come inside, both of you.”

The hook-handed man looked surprised. He shifted uneasy. Violet couldn’t blame him, and a small part of her took glee in it. Fernald, while time had been kind between them, still caused her and her siblings misfortunate. He couldn’t help but feel a tad bit guilty—even moreso after hearing how kindly he had treated Sunny on the Mortmain Mountains—but Violet wasn’t too mad with him.

_ At least Fernald knew what he had been doing was wrong, _ she thought bitterly, a smile still on her face.

“You, uh, you don’t need to invite me in. As it is, I heard you’re not too happy with Fiona. I should real—”

Violet dip a sweeping motion, a sign to come inside.

Fiona stepped inside, and Fernald followed hesitantly, a word here meaning ‘while muttering apology after apology’.

It was somewhat awkward with silence for a bit, while food was served. Fernald himself had quickly opted to help Sunny prepare the food in the last little bit, simply so he didn’t have to see the Quagmires—and he loved to dote on little Sunny, infrequent it may be.

It was only when the food was about to be served did anyone speak up.

“Isadora, Duncan, Quigley, this is Fiona Widdershins. Fiona, the Quagmire triplets.” Violet said.

“You, uh, already know me.” Fernald said, stepping out of the kitchen a step behind Sunny, and suddenly Duncan and Isadora tensed up. Duncan clutched the chair, and the armrest, his nails digging into it, while Isadora just outright pushed the chair out subtly, in case she had to run. Quigley looked at his siblings confused.

“Y-y-you… You helped Olaf kidnap us…” Isadora stammered, anxious.

Fernald sighed. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.” Fernald said.

“But I’m sure you have too.” He said, walking slowly, bringing the bowl of salad to the table.

“Violet! Why did you let him in the house?” Duncan asked, mildly angry. “He’s wicked!”

Violet smirked a little. “Meet Fernald. He saved Sunny’s life, rescued us, and is Fiona’s step-brother.” She said, before adding, “And no one’s wicked or noble.”

“People are like chef’s salads. Bits of good and bad, mixed together.” Fernald said, and the Quagmires eyes widened. “In a vinaigrette of conflict and confusion.”

Isadora looked at Klaus. “You’ve said that before.” She pointed out. It was true. When the Quagmires had heard some of the horrible things that had been done, and when they regretted their own, the Baudelaires were quick to quote that.

It had resonated with them, and even as the months passed, they still said it.

Fernald chuckled. “I don’t suppose they ever told you that Fernald and ‘the hook handed man’ were the same, eh? Didn’t wanna scare them?”

“They did.” Quigley said. “We forgot.”

Fiona smiled. If the Quagmires could be this friendly were Fernald, they could likely forgive her too.

“And now, to the matter of the night.” Quigley said, turning to Fiona. “Fiona. Nice to meet you.” He said, holding out a hand to shake. Fiona took it and shook his hand, smiling softly.

Each of the triplets introduced themselves to Fiona, and even Isadora couldn’t help but be a bit softer—she was mad, yes, but she was trying to forgive her.

Things seemed at ease. Fiona lived in the dorm beside the Quagmires and Baudelaires, currently alone. Due to the time of school year, it was likely she would be alone from time to time.

All seemed okay for some time.

At least for sometime.

**Author's Note:**

> (Willing to take suggestions in regards to the content. Just give me ideas folks!)


End file.
